Art

22

When.
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It's been a whole week, and his father eventually started working today. Which gave Jeongin more time to enjoy his free time.

Yes, he still didn't attend school, and it came to a point where both Jeongin and his father considered, putting him in a new school. His father figured that something must have happened on his current school, that made his son scared to go. Jeongin on the other hand, was finally getting used to the peace. no one came tumbling in through the door, no creepy stalkers stating they cared for him. It was oh so perfect in his little world. And getting the peace he deserved, was beyond nice.

The best part was that he actually managed to go out without encountering the two men, nor feel the intensity of staring. Sure it was nice, but he sort of missed them a bit..probably cause he got so used to them being there.

There was nothing that could describe the amount of happiness he felt.

Though there was some sad news too.

The doctors that took care of his mother, had send an email to his father, stating that they eventually expected his mom to pass away in for the next month..there was no way of actually saving her, unless a magical miracle happened.

So Jeongin's mind was mainly stuck on that. Which also made him undeniably mentally exhausted. It all happened so quickly, time passed so fast that Jeongin could barely keep up. With everything.

It overwhelmed him to a point where he eventually started breaking down at night, pulling his hair and silently screaming. It had such an effect on him, that everything turned upside down. He occasionally threw up at night too, not wanting to be reminded of his mothers soon passing. And though, as much as he wanted to visit her in her dead bed, he wouldnt be able to go see her..it would be to much for him to handle. Imagining her, in a forever sleep, on a bed about to drift away from this world forever.

There was nothing that could describe how bad he felt, he felt like being in thr complete void, empty and dark. He hated it, but there was no way of getting out of it. Time was the only cure.

He looked out on the raining street, watching people run with bags over their heads, in attempt to not get soaked..a really bad attempt.

It's been raining a lot recently, which definitely did not brighten up his mood. But he tried to see the positive in things..it hyst got relatively harder over time. He didn't know when he became like this, having occasional breakdowns, throwing up every night, harming himself in ways he usually wouldn't. He was used to hiding it with a mask, smiking everyday, depsit eknowing things weren't okay. But maybe what he was feeling now was just a negative effect, of hiding away for so long.

It teared him down. But he promised himself he would get through it, and hopefully, he'd feel better soon. Not having to worry about too much at once..but that was for his future self to worry about.

Of course he wanted it all to end, but he held on just a bit more..wanting to see the result of what was going to happen, once everything started getting, more and more intense over time. Mentally preparing himself was the least he could do, he needed to calm his anxious nerves, and stay composed, until it all comes falling down on him.

It might just be something he had to get used too. He was getting thinner and thinner day by day, weaker and weaker as he rarely consumed any form of liquid would get thrown up.

This was the definition of hell.